


And The Moon Shall Rise Again

by Rein



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mishima gets the hugs he deserves, Other, because thats how i show my love for fictional characters, but only after he goes through some shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 19:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13255152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rein/pseuds/Rein
Summary: It started with a toss spiked a little too hard towards him. It began with a visit to his office. It escalated on a oily night in Shinjuku, drowned by hands and needles.It ends with a heart carefully pieced together by found family and a transfer student.





	And The Moon Shall Rise Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is a hella super self indulgent fic 
> 
> sooo i love mishima 
> 
> i also love dragging my favorite characters through the goddamn filth 
> 
> sorry moon moon, its your turn 
> 
> I beta'd this as best as i could, its been a few years since i wrote so excuse, really, this whole mess of angst and hugs

_I shouldn't be here, this isn't worth it, maybe I should go…_

 

Mishima's thoughts ran in circles as he sat on a bed in a windowless room. It was dimly lot, filled only with the bed, a few dressers, and ceiling to floor mirrors on one side of the room. There was the door that led to the bathroom, just as sparse as the bedroom. The other door lead to the hallway he came from.

 

Kamoshida said he needed to work on his stamina, that he always tired out too easily. He would never make it on the reserve lineup, much less the starter lineup, if he didn't work on his stamina. So Kamoshida generously offered his help, taking him to an unmarked building in Shinjuku on a Saturday night, leading him to the room he currently sat in and talked with the man who waited for them outside the room.

 

_God, I'm so stupid! I should back out now, leave, volleyball isn't worth this…._

 

But it was. He could have left when the beatings started, when the _other_ things started to happen when he was called to Kamoshida's office after school. Mishima didn't because he believed, somewhere deep within, that maybe he could be useful and contribute to the team. If this could help, he'll endure it.

 

“Mishima-kun, it looks like we got everything squared out,” startled from his thoughts, he looked to see the man enter the room. Kamoshida walked in right behind him. The sound of the door closing behind him should not have sounded so ominous. “Let's get you warmed up.”

 

It was then that Mishima saw the syringe in the man’s hand and Mishima went from nervous to alarmed in less than zero seconds.

 

“S-sensei, I...I think I changed my mind.”

 

“Man up, Mishima. You said you wanted help, this is the best way to help someone as useless as you,” Kamoshida walked over by his side and clamped on hand on his shoulder. That was enough to quell his instincts to run out the room. “Hold up your arm.”

 

With effort, he held up his trembling right arm to the man, eyes trained on the syringe and its mysterious content. _I'm so fucking dumb, oh god, I shouldn't have said yes, fuck_

 

A quick prick to the inside of his elbow and it was done. He blinked, waiting for whatever to happen take effect but, so far, he felt nothing.

 

“Get naked.”

 

Mishima's head snapped up, wide eyes looking at Kamoshida but he didn't repeat himself. Lips parted to protest, that attempt was quickly shut down with a hard squeeze to his shoulder and a cold glare that promised him pain if he didn't comply. With a shaky nod, he stood up and began to undress.

 

Stripping in front of Kamoshida was familiar, he could ignore the other man and pretend it was another visit to his office. By the time he stepped out of his boxers, his skin was feeling flushed and he felt light headed.

 

Kamoshida walked over, eyeing him from head to toe before he leaned in close to his ear, “Remember, you asked for my help. What happens from here on out, it's on you and you alone. Do good and I might just have a spot for you on the reserve team.”

 

His breath was hot against his ear and Mishima squeezed his eye shut, suppressing the shudder that ran down his spine. He stood there, hands balled into fist by his side as Kamoshida's presence left his space.

 

“Are we good here?”

 

“Yeah, I'm going to prep him before the first guest comes up. You staying?”

 

“Nah, got a date.”

 

The door opened and closed and Mishima was left on his own, standing naked in a room, with a stranger.

 

“You can open your eyes, Mishima.”

 

He did so, slowly, to see the man looking down at home with a gentle smile. The man looked him over, humming here and there, pulling him close and sliding his hands over his skin. Mishima shuddered, confused as he felt that touch of his hand more strongly than usual.

 

“Let's put this one before you get too excited.” Mishima jumped when the man held his dick, snapping a black leather band around the base. He couldn't stop the small groan that slipped out of him at the touch, face flushed with shame as the man moved towards the dresser again.

 

“Wha-what was in the needle?” His voice came out shaky, trying to quell the slow burning arousal he was feeling. This wasn't right, he didn't get this way so quickly and his skin didn't normally burn so much.

 

“A drug we use on our new girls to get them relaxed,” He walked around Mishima, placing leather bands around his wrists and pulled his arms back, snapping his wrist together in place behind his back. “You need a little more prep to get you ready but don't worry, all your guest have been informed not to bruise you.”

 

Guests? Fear pooled in his belly and he couldn't stop his eyes from watering, a small hiccup escaping him.

 

“Hey, hey, don't cry,” The man came up in front of him, grabbing his chin and tilting his head up. He ran his thumb along Mishima's lower lip, smiling gently. “Behave and this will be so good for you. We’ll take care of you like one of our girls, Mishima.”

 

The man guided him back until Mishima's knees meet the edge of the bed. Mishima bit his lips, easily falling back on the bed with a small push, landing flat on his back. It took a bit to get himself sitting upright but when he did, the man was back by the edge of the bed. He had taken his shirt off and in his hands was a deep crimson plug with a flared base and a bottle of lube. They were tossed by his side and the man climbed on the bed, grabbed Mishima’s ankles and spread his legs apart.

 

“W-wait… pl-please…” Mishima forced the words out, weakly attempting to pull his legs away, or at least pull them close together again. But he had no strength in his body to resist, the drug sapping away his strength. Mishima watched as the man popped open the cap on the bottle and slicked up his fingers. He payed Mishima no mind as he adjusted the boy and pulled him close, slipping in between Mishima's open legs.

 

A sob broke out of Mishima's mouth as the man slid his slicked hand along his dick, down to his balls until a finger teased his entrance. Mishima's body arched, moaning as a finger was pressed into him. The steady burn that he felt all over his skin spiked as the man began to work him open. A haze was starting to settle in the back of his mind.

 

“That's a good boy,” the man said as he pushed in a second finger, leaning over Mishima to look at him.

 

Despite the intrusion, Mishima's body flushed when he realized he was moving his hips, trying to get those fingers deeper in him. His body needed more than what the man was giving him, his fingers just not thick enough.

 

“...please..” he cried, unsure if he wanted the man to stop or keep going. That hesitation and uncertainty made the shame burn so much more. He was startled from his thoughts when he felt the man slip his fingers out. Mishima whined at the loss, hips lifting off the bed.

 

“Damn, your a natural, kid. Don't worry, I got what you need.” Mishima felt the bulbous tip of the man's cock pressed against his entrance. The tears that had welled against his eyes slipped down the side of his face as the man pushed into him.

 

Mishima cried out, back arching at the burn of the stretch. The man pushed into him without any regard of how much it hurt, forcing his way in Mishima until he was pressed flush against his ass.

 

“Fuck, you're damned tight. You'll be so good for the others,” the man continued to talk but Mishima didn't hear him as he pulled out and slammed into him. It hurt and for a moment, that was enough to kill his arousal for a moment. But that wasn't nearly enough to completely kill it. Somehow the pain was slowly starting to feel good, the thrusts pulling long unwanted moans from him. The haze that clouded his mind was much harder to ignore. It was becoming much easier to stop fighting against his urge to resist, to let the man fuck him open. The longer he fought against, the more it would hurt.

 

At least he wasn't being hit, like Kamoshida like to do when he called him to his office. Or forced a dick down his throat, keeping him pressed against his crotch until he couldn't breath, forced to drink the come that slithered down his throat. This was better, he could ignore the shame of it if it meant not getting hurt anymore.

 

“...I don't wa-want to hurt,” he begged, hips moving to meet the man’s thrusts. The pain was almost gone and all he felt the was familiar sensation of being full. The sound of skin slapping against skin made slipping into the haze so much easier.

 

The man grunted above him, fucking him harder and harder until he stilled, coming inside Mishima. Mishima tensed, a breathy moan filling the room as he felt the familiar sensation of a dick throbbing inside him, spilling come in him and then the inevitable empty feeling when the man pulled out. Through the haze, he heard the door open as multiple footsteps followed. With effort, he turned his head to see four or five men stepping into the room, the door closing behind them.

 

Mishima turned to look at the man who had just fucked him, and the man smiled, “Don't worry, we’ll make sure you feel real good.”

 

* * *

 

Everything was a blur afterwards.

 

They kept him drugged up for who knows how long. Moments of clarity brought a sense of horror and shame, protests falling on deaf ears as he felt the familiar prick of a needle. He fought as much as physically could but hands held him still and once injected, it didn't take long for his body to succumb to the drug.

 

The horror and shame turned right back to a mind numbing point of pleasure, letting various men do what they wanted to him.

 

The men turned into faceless shadows, offering lewd compliments and smiles too full of teeth, and when that moment of clarity came again, Mishima didn't fight.

 

* * *

 

When Mishima woke up again, he was in a bathroom, slumped over the edge of the tub as warm water fell over his back. He stared down at the tile floor, still as more warm water was poured down his back, tensely waiting for the inevitable.

 

“You’re safe now, Mishima-chan,” The voice was gentle and feminine, making Mishima wearily lift his head. A girl with tired eyes and a patient smile met his. She looked around his age, maybe  older, dressed in a plain sports bra and shorts.

 

With a gentle caress to his head, the girl bathed him. She cleaned him up of all sweat and dried come, careful of the bruises left by many hands. Mishima should have been embarrassed, having another person clean him. Especially when she asked him to spread his legs so she could clean him thoroughly, he didn’t protest. He couldn’t find it in him to protest. The exhaustion that ached in his bones and skin made it hard. It was easier to simply follow her directions as she finished up.

 

With her help, she dressed him up in the outfit he came in then guided him to sit on the bed in the room as she left. He waited for her and she came back with the man Kamoshida left him with. The girl who bathed him was all smiles and pleasantries but Mishima could recognize the cold look in her eyes that didn’t match her smile.

 

The man talked, praising Mishima and petting his head, but Mishima was focused on the girl hanging at his side. When their eyes met, she slipped, her smile wavering just a fraction, sympathy and pity in her eyes before they vanished again, joining the man in his praises when the man asked for her opinion on his performance.

 

_Oh, so that’s how you survive here._

 

A ring pulled Mishima out of his thoughts as the man looked at his phone, “Looks like Kamoshida-san is here to pick you up. Hopefully he lets us borrow you again another weekend, you got yourself quite a few fans, Mishima-chan.”

 

Mishima nodded, the girl coming to his side to help him up, and they walked behind the man as he was escorted out through the back where Kamoshida was waiting. The two men talked as the girl helped Mishima into the passenger seat.

 

“Please eat something light when you get home, nothing heavy,” from her pockets, she pulled out a small bag of white pills and stuffed them into his pants pocket. “Sleeping pills, the good ones that stop you from dreaming. It will help the first few days. I’m sorry.”

 

He looked at her, tired and vulnerable, and Mishima wanted to cry. Maybe she noticed because she pressed a finger against his lips, “Wait until you’re alone. Hold on for just a little more.” It was a command more of a plea and Mishima listened, because he could follow a command. He grabbed that feeling that threatened to spill over, holding it tight because she was right. He couldn’t lose it yet. He was out the brothel but not out of Kamoshida’s presence.

 

She smiled, a genuine smile, as she pet his head.

 

“Let’s go, Akiko.”

 

“Coming , sir!l” The smile was gone, replaced by the false one that didn’t reach her eyes, as she closed the door and bounced towards the man. A moment later, Kamoshida slipped into the car and they were off.

 

Mishima focused on the pills Akiko had given him in his pockets, hand tightening around them, counting the seconds he could go home. Kamoshida wasn’t talking but he knew he was watching, eyeing him for who knows what.

 

It wasn’t until Kamoshida was parked a block away from Mishima’s apartment that he learned what Kamoshida wanted as he gripped his wrist, stopping him from leaving. “Let me see what that mouth of yours learned?”

 

Mishima blinked, an urge to laugh almost overwhelming him. Instead, he buried everything away; the unshed tear, the manic laughter, his sense of self all locked away tight as he nodded, head bowed as he answered, “Yes, sensei.”

 

* * *

 

It was easier to listen afterwards.

 

Kamoshida kept on fucking him in his office after school. Nothing changed in that regard except there was less beatings. A blessing, if he could call it that. On weekends though, the shadowed men at the brothels had him.

 

They usually drugged him up a few times, to warm him up and get him relaxed. After the first couple of weekends at the brothel, it wasn't needed anymore. He knew how to act, smile at the men as hands gripped his skin. They smiled and praised him as they fucked him, never letting him rest until they were truly done.  

 

Akiko always took care of him afterwards, cleaning him and helping him move when he couldn't. Sometimes he cried in the bathroom, after everything was done, choking and sobbing. Akiko always let him cry it out, helping him breathe when he couldn’t. Staying by his side until he could compose himself again. She was the only shining light in the dark of the room where the shadowed men relentlessly toyed with his body.

 

He went to school, took notes and acted as the messenger boy for Kamoshida when he needed to talk to Suzui. He ate, breathed, did his school assignments, and slept when he went home. When Kamoshida dropped him off on the back alley of a Shinjuku street, on a near daily basis, escorted in by Akiko and prepared by her handler, he buried his sense of self and smiled.

 

That was Mishima’s life for weeks, a nerve-searing cycle of pretend monotonous living.

 

Until Kurusu Akira transferred in.

 

* * *

 

“You would think the principal would take my advice, considering who I am. It's much harder keeping someone in line if they have a reputation like that.”  

 

Kamoshida was ranting, going on about the transfer student. How he didn't like that defiant look on their eyes, typical that Ryuji would hang around him. Birds of a feather and all that.

 

“And the way he looks at me pisses me off!”

 

Mishima flinched, standing by his side as he ranted. Kamoshida stood up from his desk and Mishima had a second to prepare for the smack across his face. He barely had time to register the pain as Kamoshida shoved him down to the floor, stomping a foot against his stomach.

 

Mishima cried out, gagging as he curled in on himself. Kamoshida frowned, kneeling down to grab a fistful of hair, yanking Mishima’s head back.

 

“Can't have your face looking too beat. The guy at the whore house keeps getting on my damn nerves about it.”

 

He let go, letting Mishima drop back to the fetal position. “Go get Suzui and tell her to wait here, I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

Mishima struggled to his feet, knees almost buckling as he walked out the office. His face stung and the ache that radiated throughout his stomach made him want to throw up. But he pushed on, because Kamoshida commanded something and it was easy to shut his mind and follow.

 

He found Suzui on her way out and passed along the message. She sighed, eyes downcasted at the floor and Mishima wanted to apologize. Not for the first time, Mishima wished he could do something more, say anything, but instead he nodded and left.

 

He was a coward, through and through, and his throat burned.

 

“Mishima-kun?”

 

Startled, he looked up to see the transfer student, Akira Kurusu, staring at him with unfathomable eyes. His throat burned even more, of fear, and he wanted to run.

 

Akira’s been with Ryuji, hounding after him and other volleyball members, asking questions they shouldn't be asking. Ryuji was the confrontational one, asking and asking while Akira stayed quiet.

 

“You're hurt.”

 

By Kamoshida, was left unsaid.

 

Mishima looked down, biting his lips as he gripped the strap of his bag much harder.

 

“I'm sorry,” he walked past Akira, avoiding his eyes as he hurriedly left school grounds. He didn't even know what he was apologizing for. For the rest of the way home, he kept his head bowed, counting the seconds until he was alone in his apartment. It was moments like these he was glad his parents were often overseas.

 

As soon as he was home, he tossed his bag aside in the hallway, aiming for his room without dinner. It was nothing unusual, his appetite was very sparse lately, his stomach barely able to keep down light meals.

 

“Tomorrow will be better.”

 

Peeling off his clothes, he climbed into bed, ignoring his reflection in the morning of his too skinny body with old purple bruises fading, replaced by new ones. All which were covered up by bites and marks from the men at the brothel.

 

“Tomorrow will be better,” he repeated. Mishima had once asked how Akiko could work at the brothel. She only worked as a cleaner for the other girls in the brothel but Mishima could imagine it must be hard, seeing what men with money did to others without any regard to their humanity. Used and fucked like toys until they broke. Akiko told him that phrase. Then promptly said it was a bullshit lie but even if it was a lie most times, there was always that small chance that tomorrow _could_ get better.

 

Mishima took to repeating that when he felt utterly empty. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be better…

 

* * *

 

Like the others, Mishima watched as Suzui stood on the edge of the school’s roof.

 

Like the others, he watched as she took a step forward, falling. Time didn’t slow. One second she was on the roof, the next her body hit the ground with a heavy thud and she was still. Others gasped, some screamed, Mishima stood perfectly still. He couldn’t hear the frantic chatter, the call for help, he could only stare at the spot where Suzui jumped and his heart felt envy.

 

As Ann boarded the ambulance, the last image Mishima saw of her before the doors shut was Ann holding Suzui’s limp hand. Mishima became hyper aware of everyone around him. The gossip, the teachers desperately trying to usher the students to their home rooms, and the tight feeling in his gut that he barely managed to keep under wraps was threatening to break free.

 

He stepped back, running away to anywhere less crowded. A place where he could breathe and properly break down but he wasn’t given that chance. Ryuji chanced him down, demanding answers, wanting information, and his anger prickled Mishima’s skin. Akira, so silent compared to Ryuji, asked as well, much softer but Mishima could feel his anger rolling over his skin. That frightened him more than Ryuji’s anger.

 

Mishima talked, told him what they wanted to know because there was only some much he could keep it in. His nerves were frayed and as he spoke, flinching when Ryuji swore, he gripped at his hair, tugging hard. He needed something to feel grounded.

 

“He was in a bad mood yesterday, it’s usually me he takes it out on but he had me call Suzui to his office,” he paused, a dawning realization coming to mind. “She didn’t make any mistakes yesterday… he must have…”

 

He couldn’t finish the rest, it didn’t take much figuring out what could have happened to Suzui and when Ryuji growled, charging off to the teachers office, Mishima wanted to cry. Akira followed Ryuji and Mishima trailed after Akira.

 

Why did he… Kamoshida could have used him like he always did, why did he have to target Suzui like that?

 

Mishima remembers speaking, his own anger coiling around his breaking point, unsure of what to do and where to go.

 

Suzui didn’t deserve any of it! Kamoshida shouldn’t have…!

 

“...and on top of being expelled, what will the board meeting think when they find out one of their students has been working at a whore house?”

 

Mishima’s vision whited out, everything but confusion making itself know. He could feel Ryuji’s and Akira’s eyes on him but that didn’t matter.

 

“...what?”

 

“We’ll have to inform your parents, no other school would want a troubled student like you.”

 

“But… you were…,” he couldn’t talk, because no matter what he said, no one would believe him. It was his word against Kamoshida and Kamoshida might as well be the law within the school. Kamoshida smirked and waved them away as if they were flies, done with the conversation.

 

Mishima didn’t hear Ryuji and Akira talk, didn’t hear their concerned questions and prodding until Akira reached out, softly touching his shoulder.

 

That was the last straw, Mishima bolted. He ignored their calls, the teachers shout to get back on school ground. None of that mattered. He ran, feet taking him to the station, barely keeping himself together as he waited as stations passed by. As soon as he stepped onto Shinjuku station, Mishima pulled out his cell phone, aimlessly walking down the street.

 

“Mishima-chan?”

 

Akiko picked up and at the sound of her voice, Mishima cried, crumpling to his knees in the middle of the sidewalk. Akiko asked where he was, soothing voice consoling him, prying broken directions from him until she found him.

 

Akiko helped him up, pulling Mishima close to her, wiping away fat tears that never stopped rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop, breath coming up short, but he listened as Akiko guided him along, past the flower shop that opened during the night and into a bar that wasn’t open yet.

 

“Lala! Let me borrow the back room please!”

 

Akiko called out, herding Mishima into the bar, past the counter where a woman was cleaning the bar. Akiko hurried into the back with Mishima, closing the door behind her as she set Mishima down on a couch.

 

“What happened, Mishima-chan?”

 

An apology was on his lips, waiting to be let loose when he saw her in her maid uniform. He must have pulled her out of her work when he made that frantic call. The apology was there, waiting to be said and to brush over everything. He was upset, overwhelmed by having seen a fellow student attempt suicide. He should apologize and forget, go back to school and await his inevitable explosion.

 

“...I’m _so tired_ …” and he cried again, letting Akiko wrap him up into a tight hug, face smothered by her chest and he clung to her. The dam that was so precariously held together for so many brutal weeks was broken and Mishima couldn’t fix it.

 

At some point, he fell asleep, head on Akiko’s lap as she ran her kind hands through his hair.

 

* * *

 

“Lala, can Mishima work here?”

 

Akiko asked, leaning against the counter to smile at Lala Escargot, the owner of the bar Crossroads. Mishima spurted, looking at Akiko in disbelief as he pulled on her arm, trying to get her away from Lala. If only because Lala scared him.

 

Even now, after talking through what had happened to them, Mishima couldn’t quite figure out how to read her face, especially when Akiko told him that Lala was kind hearted beneath her tough exterior. 

 

“Mishima-kun, would you be willing to testify against that brothel?”

 

Mishima blinked rather owlishly. That wasn’t what he thought she would say. Seeing his confusion, Akiko stepped in to explain.

 

“That brothel popped up recently and has been skimming through all sorts of grey lines. Lala asked me to investigate but they’ve been very careful until you and your waste of human flesh teacher came in. Mishima-chan, with your help, we can get rid of them.”

 

“You don't have to decide anything now, Mishima-kun,” Lala said reassuringly. “Your help will get them out of my hair faster but I can do without if you don't feel comfortable.”

 

“For now, you're staying here with me!” Mishima blinked, looking at Akiko. “Do you really think I would let you out my sight after what you told me? And it sounds like that shitty teacher knows where you live. It's decided.”

 

Mishima had no room to argue and when he looked to Lala for help, she chuckled. “Can't help you here, kid. Akiko is stubborn once she's made her mind up.”

 

“O...okay.” Akiko grinned, nearly toppling off her bar stool as she hugged him, ruffling his hair. This was okay. He wasn't sure how he would have handled going back to school, knowing his days were numbered, so this was more than okay. “Thank you, Akiko.” He whispered, hands gripping her shirt.

 

Akiko pulled backs, hands cradling his face as she looked at him. “It's the absolute least I can do after _everything_ you had to go through, okay? You are safe now, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Lala and I are here to make sure you are safe.”

 

Mishima nodded, looking down the best he could because tears started to blur his eyes. He was crying too much, should be apologizing for crying so much but neither Akiko or Lala said anything.

 

“Take him upstairs and feed him. It’s too early to start looking like a skeleton for halloween. Tonight should be relatively easy so I can manage the bar myself. Akiko, I’ll call you if anything.”

 

“Yes, ma’am!”

 

* * *

 

Mishima woke up on a unfamiliar bed and he panicked. He struggled against the comforter, skin covered in goose flesh as he blindly tried to figure his way out of bed. He barely heard hurried footsteps as someone grabbed his wrists, pulling him towards the edge of the bed.

 

“Mishima, breathe, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Akiko whispered, keep his wrist still as she kept talking. “You’re in my bedroom in Lala’s apartment.”

 

Mishima took a shuddering breath in, focusing on her face and the tight grip of her hands on his wrist. That’s right. He was staying here with them for the time being, away from Shujin and his inevitable expulsion. He shuddered, breath hitching a notch before he started to follow Akiko’s breathing. Akiko smiled softly, letting go of a wrist to pet his head.

 

“That’s it, keep breathing like that. You’re okay. Do you want anything?”

 

Mishima shook his head, he didn’t want her to leave him alone. “Okay, do you want me to stay?” He nodded, unable to speak still. Akiko nodded and sat beside Mishima, threading her fingers with his and sat with him in silence.

 

“You’re really good at this.” Mishima softly said when he could find his voice again.

 

Akiko chuckled softly, “Lala helped me out a few years ago when I was in a tough situation. I know what you’re going through so if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me or Lala.”

 

Mishima hummed a yes, returning back to silence until he finally got a good look at Akiko in the low morning light. “Um, Akiko? Where’s your hair?”

 

Akiko blinked, free hand reaching up to notice she wasn’t wearing her wig. Her natural hair was just a shy longer than Mishima and for the first time, Mishima saw her look embarrassed? Maybe shame?

 

“Ah, that,” she became uncharacteristically quiet and Mishima began to worry.

 

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have pointed it out. I’m sorry, please-“

 

Akiko cut him off, shaking her head with a small smile “It’s okay. I guess now is as good as ever to say this. I’ve told you before that Lala helped me out a lot right?”

 

Mishima nodded, not wanting to interrupt her. “Well, I used to really hate how I looked and my parents didn’t really like that I dress in feminine clothes. Especially since they expected me to take on the family business and eventually get a wife. I ran away after a huge fight with them and made some bad life choices. That’s when Lala came and rescued me, told me so many times that I wasn’t wrong for feeling the way I felt. That I was okay.”

 

Tears started to well up along the corner of her eyes and Mishima panicked, frantically looking around for something to offer. Akiko chuckled and squeezed his hand, focusing his attention back to her.

 

“I can move you to the guest room if you feel uncomfortable around me. Or a different floor. Lala owns the building so it’s fine either way”

 

Mishima shook his head, looking down at their joined hands. “It would be pretty shitty of me after all you’re doing to help me right now, Akiko. I don’t feel uncomfortable, you’re you after all.”

 

He had a second to brace himself as Akiko threw her arms around him, “If only all the other idiots out there were as understanding as you! It’s decided, I’m keeping you, that shit school can’t have you.”

 

Mishima found himself laughing, comforted by her weight against his side and for the moment he could briefly forget. He was dragged up from the bed, being led about by Akiko as she made him sit at the kitchen island. She started bouncing around to make breakfast and when Mishima tried to help, she simply led him back to the bar stool.

 

“There’s no use when she’s like this, kid. Sit and relax.”

 

Lala spoke up, coming to stand beside him. She wore a casual yukata and very light makeup.

 

“Lala, we’re keeping him. They don’t deserve him. There’s no arguing the point, the decision has been made!”

 

Lala smiled, coinciding her defeat as she went to help Akiko, “After this, I’m going to make my rounds. Yue called earlier for some help setting up shop, so head to her around noon. Mishima-kun, if there’s anything you want to get from your house, have Akiko go with you. Preferably during school hours so that teacher doesn’t have a chance to show up if he wanted. Otherwise, I have clothes you can borrow that’ll fit you.”

 

“O-okay.”

 

“Have fun, Lala!”

 

With that, Lala headed out. A moment later, Akiko set down a bowl of fruits with a toasted bagel covered in cream cheese. “We’re going start small, eat what you can.”

 

Mishima nodded and began picking at the bowl. “Um, what does Lala do?”

 

Akiko grinned, looking behind him when Lala spoke, “I have my fingers in many places, Mishima-kun.”

 

Mishima jumped, wildly looking behind him as Lala stood by the front door, keys in hand, “Forgot these. Stay safe with Akiko and have fun.”

 

Mishima nodded, feeling a great level of respect and maybe a little bit of fear towards Lala.

 

* * *

 

For a blissful week, Mishima could push his expulsion, Suzui, and the men from the brothel from his mind. Akiko always asked for his help with something, whether if it was simple house cleaning or when she needed an extra set of arms to help out at one of the shops Lala advised.  

 

“Moochers don't get dinner,” Lala had teased one night before asking if he would help out with washing dishes in the bar. Apron in hand, Mishima cleaned glasses and plates while Lala and Akiko served at the bar.

 

Mishima didn't quite know what to make of the bar but he had come to like the soft atmosphere it created. Most patrons came in for a drink to unwind after work, others to drink and socialize with Lala or Akiko. There was one patron who came in nearly every day, familiar enough with Lala to whine at her when she denied her drinks.

 

“Oh, who's the cutie in the back?” She had said when Mishima came to the front with newly washed glasses. Mishima blinked, going to hide behind Lala from the woman’s teasing smile.

 

“Oh no, Ohya-san, you find your own,” Akiko said, stepping in behind Mishima to cling to him. Lala huffed a laugh, going to greet a new patron who had walked in. Mishima stayed by Akiko’s side as she poured Ohya another drink. Ohya wilted under Lala’s hardened gaze when she tried to offer some to Mishima. Laughing a bit, Mishima headed back towards the kitchen.

 

“Honey, could you take the trash bags out back?” Lala asked.

 

Mishima nodded, “Yep!”

 

“Lalaaa-chan! Are you sure I can’t have him? He’s adorable!”

 

“Ohya-san, I will stop serving you if it comes down to it.” Akiko said, taking her half full glass away. Ohya nearly wailed, trying to reach for her kidnapped glass of alcohol. Mishima chuckled at the sight, slipping into the back. There were only two bags, so with one in each hand, Mishima made his way to the back of the building, pushing open the back door that lead to the back alley.

 

Lala’s bar and apartment was feeling more like a home than his house ever was and, for a small moment, he wasn’t quite as afraid of his expulsion if he still had Lala and Akiko supporting him. Jogging towards the dumpster, he tossed the trash into them, wiping his hands on the apron he wore.

 

“You little-!”

 

Mishima didn’t have time to react as a strong hand gripped the back of his shirt, slamming him into the brick wall next to the dumpster. He instinctively curled in on himself, dropping to the ground but the attacker easily lifted him back up, a calloused hand gripping his throat and Mishima stared in horror at Kamoshida.

 

“Where the fuck have you been, you little shit!?” He pulled back his other hand and Mishima closed his eyes as Kamoshida punched him, head knocking painfully back against the wall. “That piss ant of a delinquent keeps staring at me as if he’s plotting something, same with that useless loser, Ryuji!”

 

As he ranted, he kept pulling back to punch Mishima. On his face, stomach, chest, with Mishima held up against by his throat, the older man could reach anywhere he wanted. Mishima desperately clawed at his hands, tried to block his blows but any attempt at defending himself lead Kamoshida to squeeze his neck until he stopped.

 

“And now that I can’t use that bitch to get to Ann, she’s been ignoring me. And you,” he was screaming, aiming blows at his body with every punctuation of his words. “And you! You disappear and have the fucking _nerve_ to ignore your goddamn phone calls!”

 

Mishima cried out as Kamoshida kneed him in the stomach. He was finally, finally, let go as he crumpled to the floor, gagging from the pain. Tears and snot streamed down his face and from what he could see out of his right eye, which was swelling, drops of blood landed on the dirty ground. His chest felt tight, throat burning, pressure building behind his eyes as he sobbed.

 

Kamoshida grunted and pain exploded across his head as Kamoshida’s foot smashed against it. He was thrown back, landing on his back as his vision faded.

 

Was this how he was going to die? Alone and in so much pain, with his teacher beating him up? If he wasn’t already sobbing, Mishima would cry at the thought.

 

He hardly felt it as Kamoshida gripped a handful of hair and hauled him to his unsteady feet, nausea rolling around in his stomach.

 

“Your place is too far so that whore house will have to do. Once I’m doing fucking you, let’s see how’ll you like spending a week there since you’re so fond of running away now. You make a much better whore than volleyball player.” He said with a laugh, leading Mishima away. His blood ran cold, fear now sinking into his bones.

 

He couldn’t…! He was just starting to get used to the nightmares, of shadowed men and sneers and the sensation of filth that rolled over his skin when he remembered his time there. His nights were only starting to be bearable, waking up to Akiko’s helpful breathing instructions. Her voice being his source of stablility as she reassured him that he was safe, that what was done to him there was not his fault.

 

“...no, please…”

 

Akiko, with all the patient of a saint or god, telling him that he wasn’t dirty for giving in to the forced pleasure. He had to survive and that’s what he did. Lala, with all the respect Mishima had for her, gave him work to do with the bar, gave him something to do to keep his mind and hands busy. Always letting him work but not for too late. Regardless, he was still a student, he needed his sleep.

 

Mishima grounded his feet, hands gripping Kamoshida’s wrist, halting his movement.

 

He couldn’t do that anymore. He’d rather die being beaten to death than let anyone else touch him.

 

And, by the furious look on Kamoshida’s face, that seemed to be where he was heading.

 

Mishima watched his hand twitch, fingers curling into a fist, “You damn brat-!”

 

Insult flying from his lips, Mishima didn’t raise a hand to shield himself. He waited, shoulders hunching slightly in anticipation of the blow when a bright flash filled the dark alley. The hit didn’t come but his fist was still raised as another flash lit the alley.

 

“Hey, aren’t you that olympic champion?!” Mishima didn’t quite recognize the voice, couldn’t see who it was because they were behind him. “I think you are! God, I’ve always wanted to write a piece about you. How about, ‘Former Olympic Caught Beating a Minor?’ I bet I could spice it up too with a dash of soliciting for sex?”

 

The voice, that very chirpy tone that threatened Kamoshida, dropped, “Release the kid, get the hell away from here, and I might forget about this.”

 

Kamoshida finally lowered his fist, face red with anger as he took a step forward.

 

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?!” He screamed, pushing Mishima away.

 

Another flash of the camera and Mishima finally turned around to see Ohya standing in the middle of the alley. Akiko was standing beside her, barely contained fury twisting her expression.

 

“Suguru Kamoshida, former olympic gold champion and teacher at Shujin Academy. I have a decent part of your ranting recorded too.” She walked towards him, unwavering confidence in her step as she stopped just shy of three feet from him. “I won’t repeat myself; get the hell away from here and your dirty secret stays with me.”

 

Mishima couldn’t see Kamoshida’s expression but he was livid, body shaking with anger. After a few tense, long seconds, he growled and stomped away, shouldering past Ohya and Akiko. They both turned to make sure he left, Ohya snapping more pictures.

 

He stood there, heavily breathing as he watched Kamoshida walk off. He’d never… Kamoshida always took out his anger on him and the other volleyball members but this was the first time he was absolutely fueled with rage. There had been a frantic look in his eyes.

 

“Oh, god, Mishima!”

 

Akiko’s voice startled him from his thoughts as she ran to him, gasping in horror at what he could only imagine what he looked like. He smiled, hoped it looked like a smile, and took a step forward when his knees buckled. The adrenaline that was holding him up was fading and various body parts were aching. Akiko rushed forward, preventing him from collapsing as he sagged against her.

 

She was shouting at Ohya, something about a doctor and then he was being carried back into Crossroads. Akiko carried him upstairs while Ohya went to give Lala the details and if he wasn’t so out of it, he would comment on Akiko’s strength. Instead, he clung to her and cried.

 

Mishima faded in and out of consciousness, recalling being placed into bed. Stripped down to his pants so Akiko could clean his wounds. Akiko never left his side as Lala and Ohya dropped by. Another woman in white came in, close to an hour later, to look him over. She talked, more to Lala and the other than him but he was handed some pills by Akiko. Mishima took them and the last thing he recalled was Akiko’s hand squeezing his.

 

* * *

 

When Mishima woke next, he had to take a moment to breathe. His body was throbbing and he couldn’t quite open his right eye. He couldn’t forgot what happened even if he wanted, the ache all over his body evident of his run-in with Kamoshida. He groaned, shuffling his way to the edge of the bed.

 

It took strained effort to get to his feet, noticing that someone, probably Akiko, has dressed him in one of his large sweaters only and clean boxers. There were splotches of nasty green and purple bruises and scabbed over scraps. He dragged himself up, wincing as his body protested the action.

 

That was fine. Mishima was well used to dealing with aches and throbbing pain. Ever so carefully, he shuffled his way to the large mirror Akiko had hanging on the back door.

 

His face looked like shit. His right eye was blackened and swollen, barely open. He had scratches all over his cheeks from being scraped around on the asphalt ground. He stepped closer, pulling down the collar of the sweater and tilting his head up, noticing a distinct handprint around his neck. Mishima shuddered, dropping his hand to the hem of his shirt and lifted.

 

His stomach looked...well, it wasn’t pretty. He was bruised nearly everywhere, angry splotches of purple or red skin littered around his stomach. The largest bruise centered around his chest and Mishima recalled that’s where he was kneed.

 

This… this was beyond what Kamoshida usually did. What had him so angry?

 

With a heavy sigh, Mishima dropped his hand again, letting the sweater settle back around his thighs as he shuffled out the room. There were voices coming from the living room and he followed, not wanting to be alone if he could help it.

 

Lala and Akiko were sitting on the sofa, intently talking to each other in whispers. Not wanting to intrude, Mishima turned to make his way back to his room when his knees gave out for a second. He steadied himself on the wall but both Lala and Akiko stopped talking, noticing him now.

 

“What are you doing up? You should be sleeping!” Akiko moved to his side, helping him walk to the living room and leading him to one of the plushiest armchair Lala had. He sank into it with a grateful sigh, pulling up his legs to tuck them underneath him.

 

“How are you feeling, darling?” Lala asked, coming over to press a hand in his forehead. Her hand felt cool against his skin and he leaned into her touch, resting his head on the arm rest. “I had a doctor come in on a house call. You’re heavily bruised but nothing was thankfully broken.”

 

“That… that sounds about right,” Mishima mumbled, closing his eyes for awhile. “I… everything hurts, and it’s a lot more than what he usually likes to do but, this is okay. I’ll be okay soon enough.”

 

“But you can barely walk!” Akiko’s raised voice startled him. He opened his eyes, seeing her standing and shaking with anger. “He can’t keep getting away with this! You should press charges, bring him up with accounts of abuse! With the photos Ohya-san took and the recording, we can get him for at least this! Don't just…”

 

She trailed off, too frustrated to speak anymore. Mishima looked down at his clenched hands. It wasn't like he wanted to let Kamoshida get away with all the horrible things he's done. But he was just one guy, against Kamoshida and the school itself.

 

“...I'm sorry,” his voice cracked. “I can't… They know… the teachers and parents, they know that Kamoshida beats u-us,” He was getting hysterical but he couldn't stop.

 

“He made the volleyball team famous, what did it matter if we got hurt, as long as they made it to the nationals, everyone turned a blind eye! I just wanted...wanted to play volleyball, I thought if I joined a club, it would a fresh start from junior high. And still, I..! and Kamoshida started calling me to his of-office…”

 

At some point, Akiko piled into the armchair, guiding Mishima into her arms because he had curled up, fingernails digging into his arms as he uselessly tried to explain. She couldn't stand seeing him like that, a chilling reminder of her past, so she went to his side. Plastering herself against him, arms wrapping around his thin waist, she held him.

 

“I just want to f-forget, please… I can’t do anything...”

 

Akiko nodded, eyes wet as she glanced up at Lala, who gave her a small nod. Lala gathered up the photos on the coffee table, taking them to put them away. They were discussing on how to report it but, seeing how distressed Mishima was, if he didn't want to pursue it, they wouldn't make him.

 

Instead, Akiko returned her attention to him, saying nothing but holding him as he clung to her, face pressed against her shoulder. He wasn’t crying anymore but he was still trembling. She was scared if she let go, he would completely fall apart. So she stayed, because that was all she could do for him.

 

* * *

 

Mishima stayed holed up in the bedroom for a few days, partly to let his bruises heal, but also because he didn’t have it in him to move around. Lala worked and Akiko checked up on him, leaving him small meals. Aside from getting up to use the bathroom, Mishima didn’t leave the room.

 

He relied on his phone more than usual, randomly reading articles on the web about anything. When that didn’t work, he slept. And when sleeping didn't work, his fingers itched for his laptop.

 

Shuffling out of bed, Mishima reached over to the bedside dresser to pull his laptop to him.  He settled against the corner of the bed, back resting along the corner of the wall. Mishima browsed a few sites, restless still until he groaned and set his laptop aside.

 

Climbing out of bed and slipping on a large sweater that hide his body, he walked out the room and to the living room. Lala wasn't around and Akiko was out shopping. In the armchair he had claimed, a large stuffed bear sat in it.

 

Mishima chuckled, remember Akiko’s word to hug it if he needed to. He climbed into the chair, squishing himself against the soft plushie and finally, his skin startled to settle. The restless urge slowly ebbed away as he relaxed into the chair, tucking his legs underneath him.

 

“Lala-chan! Let me talk to that-huh.”

 

Mishima startled, yelling and sinking back against the chair as Ohya barged into the apartment. Mishima’s heart battered against his chest as he stared wide eyed at the woman.

 

“...Lala-san stepped out,” he managed to eek out.

 

“Well, this makes it easier.” She stepped into the apartment, taking a seat from the table and dragging it next to him. “Listen, I've been looking into that Kamoshida guy. Ah, easy there,” She said with a hand held up to him when Mishima started to speak. “I’m doing this for myself. No one threatens me.”

 

There was a steel look to her eyes and Mishima nodded, “Good, I was asking around and while it’s all gossip and rumors, not a lot of former athletes he’s competed with like him. I’ve tried to go to the school but he seems to be absent. Has been for the past four days now.”

 

“He… he wasn’t in school?” Mishima asked, surprise coloring his voice. Ohya shook her head.

 

“Is that strange?”

 

“He’s never really… he's never really taken days off.” Not once in the two years he's been there has Kamoshida missed school. He wasn't sure if that meant anything important.

 

“Hmmmm,” She pulled out her cell, quickly typing something down before putting it back away. “Well, nothing I can do about that for now. How’ve you been holding up?”

 

“Okay, I guess,” he said with a shrug. The black eye he had wasn't quite as obvious, the swelling have gone down. Most of the small bruises were hardly noticeable, save for the big one on his stomach and chest. “Restless, maybe.”

 

“Understandable. How about you turn those puppy eyes at Lala-chan when she gets back? Helping out at the bar will help.” Ohya stood up, heading towards the front door. “Chin up, okay Mishima-kun. Lala-chan and Akiko-chan care about you, they’ll figure out how to work things out.”

 

Mishima nodded, waving goodbye as Ohya left. On his own again, Mishima pulled out his phone from his sweaters’ pocket, checking out the unofficial school forums. It was a simple website he had created during his first year and it had taken off amongst the student body. A quick search and he quickly found a thread about Kamoshida’s absence.

 

It was mostly posts cheering his absence but a few of them noted that Kamoshida seemed a lot more agitated before he left. Looking up older posts just brought up more complaints about him but he had already seen those. With a sigh, he put his phone down. There was nothing he could do and thinking about it wasn’t going to help. Instead, after a quick trip to the room to get his laptop, Mishima curled up against the chair again.

 

Looking at the forums made him remember it needed some upkeep. That would be enough to keep him busy until Lala or Akiko came back home.

 

* * *

 

It took some convincing on his part that he was well enough to work at the bar, facing down Lala’s intense and piercing gaze, but with her approval, he was back at the bar, helping out in the kitchen and cleaning up after tables again. It was a missed comfort. The atmosphere of the low lit bar combined with the soft ambience of chatter and music was enough to set him at ease.

 

During the day, he spent his time brushing up the forums, curious about a few threads mentioning a calling card. And phantom thieves? What was that about? Quickly finding a post about the card, he read the card on the photo,

 

“Sir Suguru Kamoshida, the utter bastard of lust…” He snorted, what a way to start it out. As he read, Mishima almost wanted to laugh. It was a nice threat but it would take a miracle to have Kamoshida confess anything. A blessing really and maybe a sacrificial offering to the gods. Probably both.

 

He shoved the calling card out of mind, of no importance to him. Instead he routinely managed the website and decided to brush up on his coding. It had been awhile since he coded anything since the forums creation and he found that he honestly missed it.

 

The next few days were simple. By day, he coded or helped Akiko out with chores and by night, he helped out down at the bar. They were careful about letting him out of their sight so he wasn’t often alone. And when he was alone, it was during the day where Mishima stayed in the apartment.

 

His body healed as the days passed and April silently slipped into May. Given the circumstances of how he met Lala and Akiko, Mishima wished he had met them under better conditions. As it were, he was grateful towards them. If they hadn’t been with him, Mishima knew he wouldn’t have been able to endure Kamoshida’s abuse for much longer. He remembered the calm envy he felt when Suzui jumped, knew that if he was pushed that far, he would have looked for a permanent way to escape.

 

Mishima shook his head, hands gripping the cloth he held. That was in the past. All he needed to do know was wait for his expulsion so that this charade of school life of his can end and he can start anew.

 

With renewed vigor, Mishima set to washing the dishes. It was a wednesday evening so there weren’t too many dishes to be cleaned. The trash had already been taken out and Mishima made sure the tables were wiped before the bar opened. Lala had asked him days before about his coding, wondering if he could create a website for her bar. Mishima was eager to help out, completely missing the second half of her compensating for his work. Mishima was over the moon to being able to help out so as he had recovered, he built a simple prototype website for the bar.

 

The quicker he finished the dishes, the quicker he can show it off to Lala before she was busy.

 

“Darling, could you come out here.”

 

“Okay!” Drying his hands, Mishima snatched his phone from the counter. If he programmed it right, the website should display on his phone as well. He hadn’t had much time looking at the phone version but he was sure to include code that was supported on the mobile as well as desktop. If anything, he should really be brushing up on web design for mobile and…

 

His train of thought stopped.

 

Lala was waiting for him, as well as Akiko and Ohya, but the bar was quiet and there were two police officers on the other side of the bar. Mishima quietly walked over to Akiko’s side, who was quick to hold his hand.

 

With her back to the officers, Lala offered Mishima a reassuring smile before turning back to the officers.

 

“If you could repeat what you were saying earlier,” she said.

 

“We’re here to follow up on some claims made by Kamoshida Suguru who turned himself in. He’s been arrested on monday for multiple counts of abuse and harassment towards the student at Shujin high. In his confessions, he mentioned some worrisome claims about you, Mishima-kun.”

 

The officer who spoke used a gentle tone and he had taken off his cap, meeting Mishima’s gaze when he could. He was as non threatening as he could be but Mishima was terrified.

 

Kamoshida was arrested? He turned himself over to the police? Why? What happened?

 

Akiko squeezes his hand, bringing him away from his thoughts and Mishima wanted to cry. He wanted to hide, maybe crawl under a rock because he couldn’t endure their looks. They knew. If Kamoshida confessed, they knew about what he’s done.

 

He couldn’t…

 

“Does this mean you’ve been made aware of the illegal brothel around here?”

 

The other officer, a man with tired but stern eyes, nodded, looking a bit surprised at Lala. “I… Yes, through his his confession we’ve been alerted of the brothels activities. Are you related to Mishima-kun?”

 

“Lala isn’t but I am.” Akiko spoke up next, Mishima looking at her with wide eyes. “Can I ask how you found my little brother? After the nightmare he’s been through, I told him to stop attending the school and had him live with me so he could recover.”  

 

The soft spoken officer answered, “Following his arrest and confession, the principal tried to contact your parents. When they failed to reply, we put out a missing persons reports and a anonymous tip brought us here.”

 

Mishima gripped Akiko’s hand tighter, briefly.wondering who the anonymous tipper was before the full weight of the officers words finally settled on him.

 

Kamoshida was arrested. He couldn't… couldn't hurt him anymore, could he?

 

“Is he…,” his voice wavered, cracking under the weight of their words. “He won't hurt me anymore, will he?”

 

The kind officer spoke, “This is why we looked for you. Kamoshida is already looking at time in jail and with your statement, we can make sure he never hurts you or another student again.”

 

Mishima nodded once, throat locking up. His vision was blurry and if he spoke, he was afraid he would start crying.

 

“I'm accompanying him,” Akiko said. “He's a minor and a victim so his name and image should not be made public. If he needs a medical exam for your records, I want it done by his doctor. We have records and photos of all the abuse he sustained while under Kamoshida’s control.”

 

Before the officers could agree, Ohya came in through the back door with a large manilla envelope in her hands. Mishima hadn’t even noticed when she left in the first place but she was grinning when she handed the envelope to the stern looking officer.

 

“Takamori, a present, if you will.”

 

“Ohya-san,” he said her name with a sense of familiarity. “What is it?”

 

“How about slapping a charge of aggravated assault and soliciting for sex? I want this bastard locked away until he's forgotten and his past glory pulled through the mud.”

 

“Your bloodlust is showing, Ohya-san.” He said with a sigh. “Akiko-san, if you could follow Naono-san to the car, we’ll talk you to the station. I need to speak to Lala-san about the brothel.”

 

Mishima felt a tug on his hand, Akiko pulling his attention and he started to follow her out the bar. A part of him wasn’t sure he quite believed the officers. In what universe would Kamoshida confess? Was it really Kamoshida?  

 

He suddenly felt exhausted. Mishima leaned against Akiko in the back seat of the police car, head resting on her shoulder. It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

For the nth time, Mishima thought how grateful he was to Akiko.

 

True to her word, Akiko never left him on his own. She was with him when he recounted the abusive relationship he had with Kamoshida. From the beginning when Kamoshida first started in his first year to the moment Kamoshida began sexually harassing him. He was somehow able to talk about it until he got to the point where Kamoshida first brought him to the brothel.

 

His words stumbled and his breathing picked up as he recalled those hurtful memories. Mishima started to become aware of the scritch of pen on paper in front of him, of the questioners gentle but steady stare, and the texture of the table he rested his hands on. At some point, he couldn’t speak and his clothes felt tight but Akiko was quickly at his side.

 

She walked him through his breathing, held his hands and gave him a point of contact he could focus on to feel grounded again. No one rushed him. They let him take all the time he needed to gather himself and when Mishima felt like he could speak again, he continued. After what seemed like several hours, he finally concluded with the last couple of weeks.

 

Luckily, the physical exam wasn’t as long. They had a doctor look over the healing bruises of Kamoshida’s attack, taking notes and pictures. There was another doctor that joined later, Akiko introducing her as Mishima’s primary doctor, Takemi.

 

Mishima didn’t immediately recognize her but he felt like he’d seen her before. She had photos and documentations of his wounds right after the attack, as well as exams from the times he spent in the brothel.

 

Mishima wasn’t surprised he didn’t remember her from back then. During his times in the brothel, he was either too drugged to notice or he blocked the memories when his kept more lucid. Thankfully, they didn’t need him after the general exam and after Akiko talked to Lala, she would be staying longer with Ohya, he could leave with her.

 

“Mishima-kun, wait,”

 

Mishima suppressed the urge to sigh. It was two in the morning. They’ve been at the station for nearly three hours and Mishima wanted to go to sleep. He turned to meet the speaker, eyes widening in surprise as principal Kobayakawa approached him. Mishima took a step closer to Akiko, relaxing a little when she held his hand.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Mishima-kun, I’m glad I could speak to you,” he said. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His suit looked a little bit too slept in. “I want to say that I truly apologize for not realizing sooner what he was doing to you and the students.”

 

Mishima gripped Akiko’s hand tighter. _Lies._

 

“If I had known, I would have put a stop to it immediately-”

 

Mishima’s skin started to crawl, a heavy feeling settling in his gut. _Liar, you knew._

 

“-The safety and well being of the students matter more than-” _We’ve told you._ I _have told you and you didn’t do anything!!_  

 

He was trembling, either from rage or disgust he couldn’t tell but he couldn’t listen to the utter garbage that was spouting out of his mouth. He knew! When the physical abuse started, Mishima and a few others brought up their concerns and the principal brushed it off. It was a sport, of course there would be some bruises here and there. What did it matter so long as they won, right?

 

“Thank you, sir, for that,” Akiko spoke up, stopping Kobayakawa from speaking more. “If it's alright, I want to take Mishima home. It’s been a long night and he’s tired.”

 

“Yes, of course, I understand,” he said, nodding. “There was one thing I wanted to bring up, concerning your absences. Given the circumstances, they won’t be held against you. Take the time you need to recover from this ordeal but do you know when you might be coming back?”

 

That surprised Mishima. “I’m… I’m not expelled?”

 

“Of course not! First of all, Kamoshida had no authority to expel students on his own. And seeing as how he’s no longer worthy of calling himself a teacher, his words hold no weight.”

 

Mishima was quiet for a moment, “Can...can I...I don’t know when. Can I decide later?”

 

“Of course, of course. Like I said, take the time you need. Let me know when you decide to come back and I’ll make sure you have all the notes you need from your teachers to catch up.”

 

“I...thank you, sir.” Mishima bowed his head.

 

“No worries, my boy,” he said. “Go get some rest. Please pass my sincerity and apology to your parents. I hope I’ll see them in the next fund meeting.”

 

 _There it is_.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Mishima was the one who turned and walked away first, pulling Akiko with him. The quicker they got away, the faster he could pretend to forget.

 

* * *

 

As much as he wished for it, Mishima couldn’t forget.

 

There was a segment in the news about Kamoshida. His or Suzui’s names weren’t mentioned but her attempted suicide and his ordeal was. Checking on the forums, there were a lots of threads shit calling Kamoshida, the principal and the faculty members for keeping quiet about the abuse. Scrolling through, it was more or less the same venting and call of injustice.

 

**User: 2kewl4pits**

 

**i guess that calling card wasn't a prank lol**

 

Calling card?

 

Oh.

 

Mishima remember the card, he really didn’t think much of it. But…

 

Practically leaping out the couch, Mishima ran to his bedroom and snatched his laptop. Quickly booting it up, he navigated his way to the websites forum and searched for the post with the calling card.

 

“The phantom thieves… Did they really…”

 

Was it even possible? Did they really steal Kamoshida’s desires and made him confess? How?

 

No matter how he tried to think of way, he couldn’t figure out how they made Kamoshida confess. But whatever they did, it was significantly more than the principal tried to do. They took the situation into their own hand and delivered justice to Kamoshida where as no one else would.

 

Who were they?

 

“Hey, are you okay?” Akiko asked, peeking into the room. “You ran here like Lala was give you her stare.”

 

Mishima shook his head, chuckling, “No, I… I need to… I think I want to go back to school.”

 

“What? Are you sure?” Akiko asked, stepping into the room completely. “I’m all for it but I want to make sure you’re well enough.”

 

Mishima firmly nodded.

 

He needed to find out who the phantom thieves were.

 

* * *

 

“If anything happens, tell me.” Akiko had her hands on Mishima’s face, cheeks squished. Mishima nodded, a muffled yes and Akiko chuckled, pulling her hands away. “You have Lala and I in your corner, okay.”

 

After telling Akiko and Lala about wanting to go back to school, Akiko took it upon herself to make sure he would feel absolutely secure in his home again. After noticing the sad state his fridge was in, Akiko stayed with Mishima for a few days in his home. To make sure he would survive when he was on his own.

 

As much as Mishima wished he could have stayed with Lala at her place, his home was closer to the school. Though they had reassured him he was more than welcome to stop by the bar and apartment. Mishima already planned to spend his weekends with Akiko and Lala. There's no way he can go back to staying on his own in his home.

 

“I’ll be late if you don’t let go of me.” Mishima managed to say.

 

Akiko merely brought him closer for a tighter hug and Mishima laughed.  

 

“I want a detailed account of your day when you come over. I’ll have Lala look at you if you lie.”

 

“I will,” he whined. “I have to catch the train, Akiko.”

 

Reluctantly, she finally let go of him. Together, they walked out of the apartment and Akiko saw him to the station. “Text me if anything.”

 

Mishima nodded, “Akiko, I… thank you.” There was much more he wanted to say, words struggling to form together to properly convey how thankful he was to her and to Lala. She smiled gentle and ran her hand through his hair.

 

“Don’t you remember what I said? That I’m keeping you forever? I meant it. I look after the people I care about. The world sucks but it's so much more bearable if you surround yourself with people you truly care about.”

 

Mishima nodded, throat threatening to lock up and unshed tears blurring his vision. “You’re a good kid who didn’t deserve all the shit you were put through. You’re strong, Yuuki. Don’t forget that and if you do, I’ll be here to remind you.”

 

Mishima nodded again and this time, a few tears slipped by. Akiko gently wiped them away and with one last pat on his head, he was off to catch the train.

 

He repeated Akiko’s words over and over in his mind as he boarded the crowded train. He was honestly terrified of going back to school.

 

_You’re strong, Yuuki_

 

It had only been a week since Kamoshida’s arrest and it was still a hot topic in the forums. There were threads and post about how the school knew, accounts of Kamoshida bullying the volleyball players, and a fair share of threads simply dragging Kamoshida’s name through filth. A few post mentioned Suzui and others mentioned the news report. While skimming through, it looked like no one had made a connection to him being the other heavily abused student mentioned in the news.

 

Still, that didn’t stop the speculations and wild guesses. If someone tried hard enough, they would be able to make the connection. His heart started to pound in his chest and he had the frantic thought that maybe he wasn’t ready to go back. He only wanted to find out who the phantom thieves were. They had to be from the school, that was the only way Kamoshida could have turned himself in.

 

Someone at school took matters into their own hands and did what no other adult should have done.

 

He wanted to find them and… do what exactly? Mishima hadn’t thought that far.

 

Well, it was too late now. The train had stopped and he was walking out, taking the stairs and walking a familiar and oddly unfamiliar path to school. He gripped the strap of his bag, nerves already starting to fray.

 

_This is mistake, a horrible one, I’m not ready at all, I can still turn back and go home…_

 

“Mishima-kun?”

 

He looked up, startled as he meet dark eyes framed by black glasses. It took a while to recall the name, but it was the transfer student, Akira Kurusu. Mishima looked around, making sure he was actually talking to him even though Akira did just call him by name.

 

“...yes?”

 

Akira’s eyes softened, his gaze sweeping over his body as if he could see through him. He looked like he wanted to say something and Mishima wondered why he stopped him in the first place. Aside from pursuing him about Kamoshida with Ryuuji, they hadn’t really talked before. Akira shook his head and Mishima was sure he saw a hint of a smile on his face.

 

“Nevermind, I’m glad to see you again, is all.”

 

Akira started walking to the school gates and Mishima stood there. He was more than a little confused about that little exchange. Was there something Akira wanted? The bell started to ring and Mishima hurried as well, heading to homeroom.

 

Aside from a few welcome backs’ from a couple of his teammates, it was relatively easy to slip back into the routine of school. Kawakami handed him the notes he was promised, given a date to take some quizzes he had missed.

 

For the rest of the day, Mishima tried his best to pay attention in class. But his mind kept wandering back to Akira. Everyone else gave him a wide berth of space, no doubt because of his reputation. Only that wasn’t on him, because it was Mishima who let that leak and…

 

_Dammit!_

 

He needed to apologize for that! If it weren’t for him, Akira probably wouldn’t be as ostracized as he was now. Mishima nearly wanted to bang his head against his desk. He waited until lunch, following Akira down to the 1st floor as he walked towards the vending machines in the corner of the quad.

 

“Um! Kurusu-kun, I-”

 

Luck wasn’t with Mishima as he fumbled over his feet. He braced himself for the inevitable fall but a hand gripped his wrist, hauling him up to his feet. Mishima looked up, (and wow, he really did need to look up because Akira was quite tall), to see Akira looking at him with a somewhat amused face.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I… yeah, thank you.” Mishima managed to say. He looked down at Akira’s hand, still holding his wrist before he remembered what he needed to say and quickly looked back up. “Um! I want to apologize! If I hadn’t leaked your past to the school, you probably wouldn’t be talked about so much or avoided by the others.” He pulled his hand away, stepping back to bow at the hips. “I’m really sorry.”

 

“It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize.” Akira said. “Kamoshida made you.”

 

Mishima slowly straightened up. He couldn’t look him in the eyes so Mishima kept his eyes on the ground. “I know. But I could have ignored it. Or not gone through with it… If I were stronger. I…”

 

If only he was strong…

 

“You are.” Akira said. Mishima finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “No one should ever have to go through the abuse you and Suzui-san endured. But you both survived.”

 

Mishima stared at him for a moment before he answered, “Suzui-san is alive?”

 

That seemed to take Akira back for a second before he nodded, “She was in a coma up until four days ago.”

 

Mishima wasn’t sure when he became such a heavy cryer but hearing that Suzui was alive, that Kamoshida hadn’t completely soiled everything he touched, was enough to force him to his knees. Fat tears rolled down his face, hands scrambling to brush them away with no result. Suzui was alive. She was alive and so was he.

 

Maybe Akiko had spoiled him with affections a little too much because he ached to be hugged and held. Relief was swimming under his skin, tears still streaming, and he was vaguely aware he was still in school. That Akira was still standing in front of him probably wondering what the hell was going on.

 

“I’m s-so-sorry,” Mishima managed to utter. “I, uh, I’m really glad to hear that. That Suzui-san is alive. Th-that’s good.”

 

“Do you need help getting up?” Akira asked, already extending his hand out.

 

Slowly, Mishima shook his head. “No. I… I think I’m going to stay here for a bit if that’s alright.” He looked up at Akira, taking in his dark eyes, meeting them head on. “Thank you, Kurusu-kun. I… I think I really needed to hear that.”

 

Akira was quiet, meeting his gaze without looking away. When it looked like he was going to speak, Ryuuji’s voice echoed over the quad, calling their attention. Suddenly, they seemed to remember that they were still in school. Akira sighed softly and with a lopsided smile, he gave a small nod to Mishima.

 

“I’ll see you around.”

 

Mishima didn’t answer as he watched him meet up with Ryuuji. Ann was waiting for them at the end of the hallway. Mishima had no proof, no tangible evidence to back his feeling, but Akira was the phantom thieves. Ann and Ryuuji as well. They did what no one else would and brought the truth out from Kamoshida. Mishima looked and for the nth time, he wished he was strong. He wished there was something he could do to help, to maybe give hope to others that not everything in the world was a sack of shit waiting to hit you.

 

As the bell chimed, signalling the end of lunch, Mishima slowly picked himself up. By the time he was on his feet, he figured out what he could do to help.

 

He needed a forum first.

**Author's Note:**

> and then akiko goes over board in dressing up mishima at the bar because he showed a slight curiosity and really, that was a mistake on his part, akiko latches on quick, poor moon moon 
> 
> lala doesn't intervene and ohya is highly amused 
> 
> crime boy knows mishima but he meets 'Yuki' at crossroads when he's waiting for ohya and boy howdy there is much panicked crying and reassuring hugs (tears are from mishima, the hugs from akiko, and one hug from crime boy who wants that one hug to turn into a million)


End file.
